There was no dispute,
from the firelocks which they carried, and the
plaids and bonnets which they wore, that they were
a party of Hamish's regiment, under a non-commissioned
officer; and there could be as little doubt
of the purpose of their appearance on the banks of
Loch Awe.
``They come briskly forward''---said the widow
of MacTavish Mhor,---``I wonder how fast or how
slow some of them will return again! But they are
five, and it is too much odds for a fair field. Step
back within the hut, my son, and shoot from the
loophole beside the door. Two you may bring
down ere they quit the high-road for the footpath
---there will remain but three; and your father,
with my aid, has often stood against that number.''
Hamish Bean took the gun which his mother
offered, but did not stir from the door of the hut.
He was soon visible to the party on the high-road,
as was evident from their increasing their pace to
a run the files, however, still keeping together
like coupled greyhounds, and advancing with great
rapidity. In far less time than would have been
accomplished by men less accustomed to the mountains,
they had left the high-road, traversed the
narrow path, and approached within pistol-shot of
the bothy, at the door of which stood Hamish,
fixed like a statue of stone, with his firelock in his
band, while his mother, placed behind him, and almost
driven to frenzy by the violence of her passions,
reproached him in the strongest terms which
despair could invent, for his want of resolution and
faintness of heart.
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